


the cult of dionysus

by preciouspeterparker



Series: all yours (and you know it) [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Peter Parker, Cute Peter Parker, Edging, F/M, Feminization, Humiliation, Lingerie, M/M, Magic, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgy, Precious Peter Parker, Punishment, Slut Peter Parker, Squirting, Top Tony Stark, Vaginal Sex, degrading, peter has a vagina in this bc magic but uses he pronouns, top avengers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2020-12-09 06:16:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20990219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/preciouspeterparker/pseuds/preciouspeterparker
Summary: Rumors about the Avengers’ new pet brings the asgardian Loki for a visit. As excited as Peter is to meet the man who tried to kill most of New York, Loki has his own intentions like every other man in the tower: fuck Peter until his brain melts.Loki has a more fun way of doing things.(Aka the one where Loki changes Peter’s sex, and everyone goes home happy.)





	1. Chapter 1

Tony may not give Peter mercy when he wants it, but he will be a  _ little  _ lenient on school nights — more specifically, nights leading up to exams. That isn’t to say he refrained from screwing with him completely. A little bit hurt nobody. 

When Peter gets home from his study date to do more studying alone, the living room is a mess. There’s new shoes littered around, a pair of green heels and red vans, and some bags dropped in the walkway. All the decorative pillows for the furniture have been thrown on the floor. The neat set of books on the table are scattered around. 

Nothing really abnormal. There’s a lot of people who visit the Avengers Compound (even though this is the private quarters). Peter set his backpack over by the couch and shoved up his sleeves. 

He wasn’t a clean freak, but ever since he got hired, he can’t help but keep an eye out for it. Plus, he always had the job of cleaning Aunt May and his home. It was almost therapeutic. 

He didn’t get far into cleaning when Friday announced, “Boss wants you to study.” Peter wadded up the cleansing wipe in his hand and tossed it in the trash. 

“They’re my daily chores,” he mumbled. 

Friday went silent. Peter pursed his lips and carried on his work. Almost sounding regretful, Friday added, “Boss wants to remind you of rule number 7.” 

Peter counted on his fingers before he got to it. “What? How’s that talking back?” He gasped loudly. “You didn’t relay my message, did you?” He groaned and covered his ears. “Oh my god.” He pointed an accusatory finger at the ceiling. “Don’t pass that on either.” 

He turned around to grab his backpack. Loki was standing there with an unamused look on his face. “You’re ordinary.” 

Peter couldn’t think of a response. He was too busy looking the god over. His long black hair was pulled back into a beautiful braid. He wore an emerald green dress with a high slit.

When he was younger, he’d seen pictures of him on the news, but they’d never done him justice. “Are you stupid, too? Can you speak, mortal?” 

“I’m sorry,” he apologized suddenly. “You’re… Wow.” 

He scoffed. “You Midgardians are so foolish.” He put a hand over him to gesture to his outfit but not in a shameful way. “So quick to judge one another for the clothes they wear.” 

“Beautiful,” he breathed in awe before shaking his head. “The dress, I mean! I didn’t mean anything weird…Oh, those were your heels in the walkway! Sorry, where are my manners? I’m rambling. Hi, I’m Peter. Parker.” 

“I know who you are,” Loki said blandly. “Thor spoke kindly of you.” Peter’s face flushed at that — he can’t imagine what Thor would’ve said about it. Knowing his luck, it probably had something to due with the night they spent together. “But I don’t see why.” 

Peter shrugged. “I’m not so sure either,” he said, laughing awkwardly. “May I get you a drink?” 

“Sauvignon blanc.”

Peter went to open the cupboard but hesitated. “Uh, Mr. Loki…” He peered over his shoulder at his already angry self. “Never mind.” He grabbed a random bottle of what he thought was a wine. 

He poured some into a glass and offered it to Loki. He brought it to his lips and drank it in one go. Once he was done, he made a confused face and licked his lips. “Have a drink with me.” 

Tony won’t care. Probably. He is supposed to be studying, which he really should be doing, but how exactly is he supposed to say no to Loki? How? When he looks like  _ this?  _ Peter May have super strength, but he’s not strong enough to turn down a drink with Loki. 

Loki snatches a glass and pours Peter a drink. Flashing a grin, he slides it over to him. Peter inspects the glass before smelling it. It wouldn’t be his first time drinking, but the last time he did, it didn’t go down easy. 

He clinked glasses and then drank from it. After one sip, he started coughing. Loki threw his head back and laughed. “It’s dangerous not to know your wine from your vodka.” 

Blinking, Peter peered over the glass. Having second thoughts, he set it down on the island. “I have some work to do anyways.” 

“Drink.” Loki rested his chin on his open palm. Peter sighed and then tried the drink again. This time he was able to get more down. “How are you any fun when you’re this uptight?” 

“I can be fun,” he said, pouting a bit. He just met another idol of his and he thinks he’s a total loser. He’s not wrong, but that’s not what he wants him to think. 

“The khakis look like a lot of fun,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Where’s the sex appeal?” 

Peter squawked in his defense. “I would’ve dressed up for you if I’d known you were coming!” 

A wicked grin spread across his face. “You would’ve dressed up for me?” he parroted. 

Peter nervously finished the rest of his drink. “I wouldn’t have worn  _ this _ ,” he said, picking at his shorts. His exam week attire isn’t the cutest. He’s going more for comfort. 

“What would you have worn?” Loki asked. He took Peter’s empty glass and refilled it and casually placed it back in his hands. If peter noticed, he didn’t show it. “I have no doubt Stark dresses you in nonsense.” 

Peter giggled lazily and took another drink. “You have  _ no  _ idea, Mr. Loki. The dresses he makes me wear are…” He faked a gag. “You, however, look astounding. I don’t think I could ever pull off a dress like that. My body’s too muscular.” 

Loki raised an eyebrow. “I am a god,” Loki said, watching Peter nervously drink again. 

“Well, of course you’re strong! But you’re… fluent. Like, like a strong woman. Beautiful,” he said, making wild gestures with his hand. 

With his metabolism, he really shouldn’t be tipsy this quickly, but the alcohol content in the vodka is high, especially for a newbie. 

Loki isn’t complaining. He plans to cut off Peter after his third drink, but he’s just so much better like this. So easygoing, carefree. 

“I could help you if you wanted. Make you feel more confident in a dress.” 

Peter thought over it. He pushed his glass away and furrowed his eyebrows together. “Is this a trick? Are you gonna, like, suck away my powers? Because that’d suck.” He giggles and playfully nudged Loki. 

“No,” he said truthfully. “I won’t mess with your powers.” 

“Good!” Peter cheered, sitting up straight. He closed his eyes and waited. Amid the anticipation, his head started to hurt. “Can I open my eyes now?” 

“Of course,” he said, sounding smug. 

He opened his eyes, expecting to see him dressed up in a fancy dress similar to Loki’s. As he expected, he was in a dress. 

What he didn’t expect was to look down at small hands and a pair of tits. “Loki, what’d you do?” he exclaimed, his voice higher than normal. “My… my webshooter. It’s…” he put his palm against his shorts. “Oh no.” 

Loki laughed. “Lighten up,” he said. “Live a little. How’s it feel, Peter?” 

“It feels like…” His anger dissipated. “Can you even call me Peter?” 

“You can do whatever you’d like, Peter,” he said, sipping his glass. “Would you like a different name?” 

He shook her head no. “I don’t know if I like this, Loki. Can you… change me back?” 

“Not yet,” he tutted. “Not before we have some fun.” 

Safe to say, Peter was not having fun. He had always wondered it’d be like to have a vagina, but right now he needs to study. 

“I have school tomorrow, and I can’t go like this.” 

“How old are you?” he asked, squinting. “Surely not a child.” 

“What’s it matter when you’re  _ way  _ older than all of us, anyways?” Peter asked, the alcohol already passing through, thanks spider bite. “I’m 18. And a half.” 

He hummed. “Don’t correct me if I’m wrong,” grinning, knowing full and well what he’s done, “Isn’t this against the rules? You’re too young to drink.” 

“Isn’t sex work also against the rules?” Peter said, rolling his eyes. 

“Stark won’t be happy with you,” he purred. 

“Oh, Tony won’t care.” Probably. Hopefully. “It’ll be fine.” 

“Wanna know something, Peter?” His long fingers traced over the top of his glass. “I joined the hero team a while back.” 

“Really? That’s amazing!” Peter said in awe. “Wow, Mr. Loki, twelve out of ten character development.” 

“Right,” he hummed. “And since I’m in the rag tag imbecile club now, you are mine by association.” 

Peter blinked in confusion. Obviously, he could say no. Whatever Loki was about to propose, he could safe word out. 

Not that he wanted to. 

“But that can wait,” he said, standing up. “You should… study.” With a careful wink, he slipped from the room. 

Peter wasted no time grabbing his bag and heading up to his room. Instead of studying the books, he had something much more intriguing to study. 

The second his door closed, Peter climbed out of his clothes. His dress pooled around her ankles. Peter’s body was its original, milky white color. His body was slightly more slender with a little more meat in his thighs and stomach. And, of course, a little more meat in his pectorals. 

He experimentally squeezed his breasts. He pushed them up and eyed his new body from different perspectives. 

Luckily for him, he didn’t have a shortage of women’s clothing around. His closet was packed with feminine lingerie. He slipped into a pair of pink lace underwear and a matching bralette. He turned to the side and checked out his new body before slipping on a long sleeved, oversized white Stark Industries shirt. Instead of a pair of shorts, he opted for his favorite pair of white and pink thigh highs. 

His hair was the one thing he didn’t know how to deal with. He combed through his wavy hair while deciding how to put it up. He had some ribbon laying around and tied a piece into his hair and made a small bow. 

“Dinner is ready,” Friday announced, snapping Peter out of his thoughts. He stopped checking himself out, took a few deep breaths, and stepped out the door. 

Walking in confident strides, Peter kept his head up high. “What’s for dinner, Sammy?” he chirped, feeling the gaze of everyone in the room. He leaned over Sam’s shoulder behind the counter to grab a plate for himself. 

Sam, too stunned to comment on the nickname, sputtered in surprise. “Peter? Is that…?” 

“Peter 2.0,” he said, smiling coyly. “Do you like it?” He stepped in closer, practically pressing Sam against the wall. He leaned in and repeated his question. “Well?” 

“Brat’s getting a little cocky,” Bucky said, finishing his drink. “Someone needs to show her her place.” 

Peter fluttered his eyelashes innocently. “Is that a promise, Buck?” 

There was an inhuman growl before he was swooped up by Barnes and carried off into the playroom. Natasha, now alone at the table, shrugged and fixed her own plate. “Love the hair,” she offered, chomping on her fork. Peter waved a thank you before the door shut behind them. 

“Forget dinner,” Bucky grumbled, grabbing the hem of the shirt and ripping it over his head. Peter licked his lips in anticipation and offered himself. He moved to grind against Bucky, but he was being pushed back onto a flat table. 

Thor and Bruce were enjoying the show from a distance. The two were peppering kisses over each other — both of them in their own little world. Clint was peering over the shoulder of Tony, who was digging through the shelves behind Peter. Sam and Bucky kept him distracted as he tried to peek a look at the two behind him. Steve looked him over in awe. 

“I was never too fond of your brother, but if he keeps up these types of surprises, he’s welcome anytime,” Tony spoke at last, dropping a new box on the nightstand by the table. He fished out some ropes and tossed them to Bucky. “No gag tonight. I want to hear everything.” 

Wearing nothing but a bralette, panties, and socks, Peter shivered in the cold room as his hands were brought up away from him to be tied. “Wait,” Clint said, grabbing Bucky’s hand, “you have to tie him down? He’s not training enough without it.” 

“That’s too much for the poor slut,” Tony said, shaking his head. “He can’t control himself.” 

“That’s why you need to train him without the ropes,” Clint hummed. “There’s enough of us here to hold us down.” 

Peter was outnumbered by a long shot. Pinned against a room full of supers, he had no chance. “You’re playing, Hawkguy?” Peter asked provocatively. 

“I don’t play nice,” he warned, tracing a finger down the side of his face. “Especially to disrespectful whores.” A sharp slap sounded across his face. On reflex, Peter’s eyes teared up in shock. Clint laughed in response. “Wanna try my name again, sweetheart?” 

The normal Clint was  _ gone.  _ Vanished. This new Clint wasn’t about to put up with any of his shit, and Peter was so here for it. He grinned. “Come on, Master. Show me what you got.” 

He considered this. “Alright, smartass. You asked for it.” 

_ Damn right I did,  _ Peter thought to himself. Clint walked off, and Tony took the chance to explore his body with his hands. The body may be new, but it still had the same sensitivity as the old one. As the fingers traced over his hip, he buckled as it tickled. He let out a sincere giggle. 

Steve made his way around Peter’s head. Sam and Bucky at his sides. Clint was leaning over him with a clinging metal in his hand. “What’s that?” Peter asked, arching his head to look but Steve held it down against the table. 

“Stay still,” he whispered, and Peter’s blood went cold at the command. He stiffened against the table, and Steve laughed. “What a good girl.” 

“M’ still a boy, Cap,” he said softly, carefully so as to avoid angering the man. He didn’t seem mad, though. He just pressed a teasing kiss against his forehead. 

A pinch to his nipple made him raise his head. “So much for being still,” Sam grumbled. 

“See why we need the ropes?” Tony asked, sighing. Peter knew it was just another act to try and humiliate him, but damn, it was working. 

There was another pinch to his other nipple, and Peter made a small hiss. Clint, out of nowhere, pulled out a push up bra and slipped the bralette off. He fastened it around Peter and pulled the straps up. 

He was confused at first until he felt the padding against the nipple clamps. The clamps hurt enough already but the padding pushing against them made it that much worse. 

To distract him, Bucky knew just what to do. He slipped a few fingers into his mouth for Peter to suck on. He happy obliqued and started to suck in earnest. 

A warm hand gently tugged down his panties to his knees. His knees were spread apart as far as the panties would allow. 

A warm, wet sensation made Peter jolt. His knees on reflex went to close, but there were being held open on both sides. Against his clit, a tongue was making long licks and applying pressure. 

Peter couldn’t sit still for long. He tried to grind against the tongue, but the hand on his stomach wouldn’t allow him to. “Control yourself,” Steve ordered. 

A finger pressed against Peter’s vagina and the owner gasped. “She’s so wet,” the owner of the skilled tongue, Clint, remarked. “Tony, want a taste?” 

Before he could prepare himself, he was being licked again. His head rolled to the side. “Peter,” Steve scolded. 

“You want to look so badly?” Clint asked, taking the shots. “Fine. Prop his head up.” A pillow was bundled under his head, giving him a perfect view of his torment. 

Tony pulled out an ohmibod out of the box. He didn’t even bother with lube. He inserted the rounded end into Peter’s cunt slowly and turned it on. 

For a tiny device, it was powerful. He couldn’t contain the shake of his thighs. Next, Clint pulled out a hitachi wand and turned the dial up. He brushed it against his clit, causing Peter to whine loudly. 

Thor and Bruce were brought out of their make out section to watch Peter cry against the vibrations. He can’t seem to get used to it, despite how often he’s plugged up. 

This is entirely different. New body, new experiences. His clit is ultra sensitive, and the device in his cunt is bringing him closer and closer to the edge. 

Peter’s whining now. He reaches out to grab something, anything and lands on Bucky’s thigh. He clenches for dear life when Tony pulls another ohmibod out of the box. 

“I get punished for being good, I get punished for being bad, cocky or insecure,” Peter practically yelled. “I get punished no matter what, you sadists. I might as well act up all the time.” 

“This isn’t your punishment, Peter,” Tony said, overly amused with himself. Pussy dripping, Peter was wet enough for the second one. His whines increased as the tiny pod slipped through. 

The heat pooled in his abdomen and he let out a squeak. “You know your place?” Bucky asked, grabbing his chin roughly. 

“Yes, yes,” Peter cried, eyes rolling back in pleasure. It was almost too much overstimulation, but it didn’t hurt. It was overpowering, but in a good way. 

He felt warm, hot electricity throughout his body. Tony switched out the hitachi for his tongue every so often, and Clint took to stuffing him with two more. 

“Mother—Motherfucker!” Peter cursed, ass shaking. “How many of these do you have?” 

“You let him curse like that?” a new voice spoke. 

Loki, amusement obvious across his face, stepped up to the table. He wasn’t wearing a dress anymore, but instead his normal attire. Masculine. Hot. 

Peter was a goner. 

“I know, right?” Clint asked in disbelief. “He’s so spoiled.” 

“Spoiled?” he exclaimed, but he was cut off by his own quickening breath. Tony withdrew, and Clint started to pull out the ohmibods one by one. On reflex, Peter reached out to stop Tony and Clint. Once he caught his wrist, he realized his mistake. 

“Yeah. Spoiled.” 

Peter was manhandled off of the table to be pushed up against a wall. His hands were fastened this time above his head. Sam attached a spreader bar to his feet. 

Still breathing heavily, Peter gasped when he felt pressure against his cunt. The pressure eased in slowly, pushing Peter even more against the wall. He pushed back and earned a harsh smack across the ass for it. 

“Patience,” Steve said, breath warm in his ear. “You can do it. I promise.” 

He really couldn’t. The thrusting picked up, and Peter had to use every ounce of willpower in his body to keep from thrusting back. His large hand reached around to grab his tit, making him cry in discomfort. 

  
  


“You’re perfect like this,” Steve grunted between thrusts. He pressed another teasing kiss to the nape of his neck, driving him crazy. He kept one hand on each tit the entire time. “You wanna touch yourself?” 

Bucky uncuffed him and guided his hands down. Steve wrapped his hand over Peter’s, easily larger than his small, delicate hands. He guided his hand over his breasts and trailed down so he could feel every curve and soft spot of his body. 

Finally his hands reached for his clit. He gently rubbed his hand against it, and Peter couldn’t decide if he wanted to grind against Steve or the hand (even though neither was allowed). 

Peter got the message and picked it up himself. He gently used two of his fingers to stroke himself while Steve pounded him from behind. 

“What a good girl,” he purred. Steve quickened his pace, and his body tensed all over as he came in his cunt. Peter kept stroking himself even after he pulled out. He clenched, not wanting to lose any of Steve’s cum. 

Steve moved over beside Bucky, who was watching Peter in awe. A new pair of hands roamed Peter’s back, smacking his ass playfully. 

“Both hands on the bar,” Tony ordered behind him. Peter reached up over his head, just barely being able to reach it. His back arched with the stretch, showing off his pretty stomach. Tony’s cock prodded his entrance and slipped through easily. 

Bucky’s hungry eyes would not leave his body. “Need some help there, doll?” Bucky asked, putting a hand on each of Peter’s delicate thighs, just above where the sock ended. Peter nodded desperately, and Bucky was happy to oblique. 

Bucky was skilled in knowing what was just right. He was gentle, treating Peter as if he was made of glass. The slightest brush against his clit was enough for Peter to get so close to the edge. 

After Tony finished, he pulled out immediately. He’d expected someone to jump in, but no one did. Peter didn’t have the mental ability to think so hard about it — he could only cry at the loss. 

“Hush, sweetheart,” Tony chuckled in a tone he rarely uses. Sweet, soothing. Gentle. 

“Mr. Stark, what’re you—” he cut himself off with a sharp gasp when a soft tongue lapped up all the cum seeping out of his cunt. Peter’s knees buckled — thank god he had the bar. He clung to it for dear life. If not for the spreader bar at his feet, he would’ve crushed a skull. “Please, may I come? Please, please, please, it feels  _ so  _ good. Fuck, please.” 

“What nasty words coming from your mouth,” Clint tsked behind him. “Where’s your manners?” 

“Shameful,” Loki said, closer now. He was simply observing from afar, but it’s hard not to want a closer look with all the desperate noises he was making. “A lady shouldn’t have such a foul mouth.” (He didn’t really believe that, but…that’s beside the point.) 

“I’m sorry, sir,” he apologized, shuttering. “Fu—“ He cut himself short. “Oh, please, please, permission to come? Please?” 

Nobody said yes, but Bucky and Tony didn’t stop until Peter was carried over the edge. As it hit him, he snapped the bar off the ceiling and almost collapsed. He grabbed at the wall, but his legs couldn’t support him anymore. 

Even after he came, they didn’t stop. Both of them kept licking, stroking, grabbing — Peter was fighting not to pass out from pleasure. 

“You’re doing so well,” Sam praised, ruffling his hair. He dug his hands under his armpits to help hoist him up. 

Unlike before, he didn’t feel overwhelming pain when they didn’t stop. “Multiple orgasms are more fun when you’re a girl, aren’t they?” Loki chuckled, knowing all too well. 

  
  


It wasn’t often the Avengers got on their knees for  _ him.  _ It was almost always the other way around. It’s a nice change of pace, he decides. 

A bottle cap opened. Peter stirred in confusion and managed a small laugh before it was cut off by a moan. “I don’t think I need any lube.” He was already loose from the two dicks and tongues he’s taken. 

“I don’t know about that,” Clint said. The lube made a loud squirting noise, but he couldn’t feel it. A toy. He was using it on a toy. 

What kind of toy is big enough that he needs lube on it after all this? 

He got his answer when a gloved finger slipped inside his asshole. Clint went very slowly, opening up his hole with a very generous amount of lube. He could feel some of it dripping down his thighs, staining his favorite socks. He didn’t have to look to know they made a mess of him. 

“Suck.” An anal plug pressed against his lips. Peter engulfed it, making sure to cover as much as he could before Clint retrieved it, taking a trail of saliva with him. Peter panted, reaching for someone — anyone. He landed upon Sam and greedily palmed his cock through his pants. Sam grinned at his eagerness and lowered his jeans to free his aching cock. Peter didn’t waste any time planting his pretty pink lips around the head. 

The anal plug was a lot smaller than what he was used to. However, different body made things difficult for him. Even the small plug was enough to bring him close  _ again.  _

Tony and Bucky stopped abruptly. Peter fell to his knees and reached for Bucky’s cock as he sucked Sam off. His hands kept busy with Bucky while Sam thrusted into his mouth all while Clint is intent on fucking the plug in and out of his asshole. 

By the time Sam and Bucky finish, Peter’s exhausted and still aching for more. Panting, he starts to beg, but they’re way ahead of him. He’s scooped up off the ground and placed back on the table. Clint climbs on top of him and sits comfortably on his stomach and palms his breast. 

Peter whines at the pressure. Clint seems to take some mercy and unclasps the bra. “What’re you… gonna do, Mr. Barton?” Peter asked, having a slight idea where this is going. Where he hopes it’s going. 

“I’m gonna fuck your pretty tits,” he replied, not one to waste time. Peter’s  _ always  _ wanted to try this. Albeit, as a young teen, probably in Clint’s place. But this is almost as good. He pushed his breasts together and used them to stroke Clint off. 

Loki was speaking, saying something, but Peter couldn’t hear. The punched noises and the slap of his skin was too loud. 

It wasn’t long before Clint came all over his face. Cum splattered just underneath his eye on his right cheek and all over his neck and chest. He was painted with it. 

Clint climbed off but not before releasing the metal clamps. 

Thinking he was done, Peter dropped his head against the pillow. “Please, I’m so close,” he cried. 

“Relax, baby, we have a surprise.” Bucky sat at the end of the table and dragged Peter by one foot to bring him closer. Bucky uncapped the lube again. 

“What?” Peter asked, laughing in disbelief. “What’s that for  _ now? _ ” 

Bucky poured some on his metal hand, which was high on the list of Peter’s favorite things to get fucked by. He doesn’t know why, but he  _ loves  _ being stretched out with it than any flesh hand. 

Bucky loves it too. 

Peter rests is feet on both sides of Bucky’s head as he works his metal fingers into his dripping pussy. “We’ve been working on some adjustments that I think you’ll like,” Tony said, sending a silent cue to Bucky, who caught on. 

Bucky roamed until he found Peter’s g-spot. Peter screamed, eyes squeezing shut. The fingers formed a fist and without warning, his metal arm started  _ vibrating.  _

The jump was anticipated. The viewers were ready to hold him down. Peter made a series of high pitched noises and clenched his thighs as he squirted around his fingers. Bucky’s fingers worked him through it, spreading him as far as he could, filling him up with his vibrating, cold metal arm. 

After he finished squirting, Bucky withdrew his fingers and set Peter’s legs down against the table. He flinched in the aftershocks, dangerously close to passing out. 

“You really are spoiled,” Loki said. 

“Making him squirt was  _ your  _ idea,” Clint reminded him sharply. “And it was  _ so  _ worth it.” 

Peter sat up and leaned into the comfort of Steve, who was always offering him cuddles. “Thank you, sirs,” he sighed blissfully. “That was amazing.” 

“We’re not done with you yet.” Yet again, Peter was hoisted up over Steve’s shoulder. He was carried into the playroom’s bedroom (which is really a bedroom because it’s just a large room with a bed wall to wall). He was unceremoniously dropped on the bed near the headboard. Clint and Tony grabbed a foot each and attached it to a new spreader bar and tied it to the headboard. Unable to lie down, Peter laid on his neck and upper back with his feet up in the air. With every movement, he clanged against the headboard. 

The hitachi was taped against his clit with baby pink bondage tape. A long pink dildo on the lowest vibration entered with ease. Peter whimpered loudly, already overstimulated. 

“Thank us,” Tony ordered, slapping his ass. 

“Sir, please—” The vibrations upped, and Peter cried from the pleasure. With both on highest intensity, Peter was left alone in the embarrassing predicament. The others filtered towards the door, not giving a damn about Peter. 

As the Avengers ate their dinner that night, they listened to Peter moan and scream. 

Peter made an excellent girl. 


	2. matilda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers made a mistake spoiling Peter, and now they reap the consequences.

“I’m so honored you could join us for dinner,” Tony said, batting his eyelashes in a mocking manner. “How does the suite treat you?” 

Nose in the air, Loki replied, “Terrible, actually. The room is atrocious.” A sharp elbow dug into his side. 

“Your room is right next to Peter’s,” Clint hissed. “You know that, right?” 

Loki’s face didn’t change, but he dropped it. 

“Speaking of Peter,” Natasha said, gripping her fork with a death grip, “Move his playroom far from the dining room.” She stabbed her salad and chomped aggresively. “Friday, turn on some damn music.” 

Tony’s favorite station started playing loud enough to cover Peter’s loud scream-moans. 

Bruce’s mouth opened not long after, but his words were drowned out. He was motioning vigrously at Sam across the table. “What?” Sam asked, voice also drowned out. 

Bruce cupped his hands around his mouth. Still, inaudible. 

Sighing, Tony asked Friday to turn off the music. At that exact moment, Bruce screamed, “Pass the peas!” After his outburst, he blushed. “Oh. Oops.” Tony snickered. 

“I think he’s had enough,” Steve advocated. “We do want him to pass his classes, right?” 

Tony slumped in his chair. “Yeah, yeah.” 

“I got him,” Steve added quickly, running out of the room at record speed before anyone else could get up. 

Peter was right where they left him. His eyelids were squeezed shut. His entire body twitched violently, banging against the headboard. The metal around his feet clanged with every movement he made. Drool pooled out of his mouth. 

“We made a mess of you,” Steve said suddenly, causing Peter to perk up. 

“Mr. Rogers?” he asked, chest hitching. “Please, sir, no more.” 

“Someone’s ungrateful,” he remarked gruffly, sinking into the bed. 

Peter’s chest raced. “No, no, not at all, sir! Thank you! Please, sir, I…” 

Steve leaned against the bed next to him and carressed his cheek. “Aw, baby, I was just teasing,” he cooed, other hand traveling down his stomach. “You’re had enough for tonight.” 

A sigh of relief. Steve undid the tape over the hitachi and turned the machine off. The pink dildo had fallen out. Steve tsked. “We’ll have to work on that.” Peter knew it was a promise. “You’re too much of a brat.” 

Steve untied his ankles next. Peter separated from the board and let out another loud moan, this time because of how  _ good  _ it felt to stretch his stiff back and legs. He sat up on the bed and swung his feet over the edge of the bed. Before he could stand up, an arm swiped across his side and pulled him into a lap. Peter let out an unsuspecting yelp as a hand dug into his shoulders, causing him to cry out. “Sore, huh?” 

“Mister Rogers, you don’t have to…” Peter trailed off lazily. His eyelids began to flutter shut again. Steve worked the tension out of his back. “Thank you, sir.” 

“You’re beautiful,” he praised. Peter was glad his back was to him. 

His sudden stiffness did not go unnoticed. “How is it that a simple compliment embarasses you after all we’ve done tonight?” 

Peter shrugged meekly. “It’s easier when you belittle me.” He took this into consideration. “Actually, I don’t know which I hate more.” Peter looked down at himself. “I guess you like the new body?” 

“Peter, you’ve always been beautiful,” he purred. Peter sunk down under all the praise. “You’re amazing for us. So eager to please, so innocent, so obedient.” Steve continued his massage until all the kinks were worked out of his shoulder. 

It was quiet for a moment. The gears turning in Peter’s head were audible. “Thank you, Mr. Rogers,” he whispered quietly. “I… Thank you. Really.” 

Steve brushed against Peter’s left ear. “You think you can be a good little girl for me?” Peter was all sex-ed out, but he nodded anyways. Eager to please. As always. Steve chuckled against him. “Try not to be too dissapointed. Go upstairs, shower, study, and sleep. Sam made you a plate.” 

Peter nodded, smiling. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” 

Steve didn’t take his eyes off him until he was out of the room. 

***

The compound was empty. No one was in sight. Tony hadn’t sent him a long list of instructions today - just a one word text that read “study.” Nothing else. 

So, he was studying on the couch in the living room with his nose buried into his textbook. 

He was so bored. 

It wouldn’t be as bad if he wasn’t so… distracted. 

If he had his penis, he’d probably have a boner. What’s the word for this? A lady boner? 

He looked over his shoulders. No one was around. He was horny, and no one could tell. With a smug smile on his face, he let his mind drift off.

_ “You’ve been a good girl, Peter,” Tony purred, teaching from behind Peter to trace his hand down his face. “You gonna keep being good for me?”  _

_ His hand traveled lower down his chest until he reached his pants. He snuck a hand in and applied pressure against his clitorus and rubbed gently.  _

_ Peter was  _ made  _ for this. To be under his control, to be putty in his hands. Belonging, like this is where he was meant to be — a good slut in the prestigious billionaire superhero’s lap. To be good for him and be rewarded. And to be punished when he was bad.  _

“What’re you thinking about?” 

Peter yelped suddenly, violently pulled out of his thoughts. He looked behind him to see a tight-lipped Tony. He sunk a little bit. 

Recovering quickly, he gestured to the textbook in his hands. “Proofs,” he said, tapping the page. “My favorite.” 

“You having trouble?” he asked. 

“No,” he said, and he meant it. Geometry wasn’t a struggle for him. He understood it way better than any of his classmates. With an exception of MJ, of course. Ned wasn’t far behind him. 

“You’re a smart boy.” Peter always goes drunk on Tony’s praises for him. They really mean the world to him. Tony leaned in from behind the couch and nuzzled his face against his neck. Peter leaned into it. “So, smarty pants, tell me why you’ve been on the same page for ten minutes.” 

_ Busted.  _

What’s that thing Mj always said about lying? It’s easiest to lie when it’s the truth. 

“Just a little distracted,” he said, hoping that’d be enough to throw him off his trail. 

“What,” he asked, punctuating each word as its own sentence, “could ever be on your mind?” 

“Well—” That damn hand, just like his dream, cupped his cheek. It stopped at his collar. 

“And my clever boy wouldn’t lie to me,” Tony said in a saccharine voice. “He’s too smart for that.” 

When Peter didn’t answer, he squeezed around his throat. “What’re you thinking about?” 

“You...touching me.” A tight squeeze. A reminder for him to be more descriptive. “Ah, Mr. Stark, you… I was thinking about you getting me off. Maybe…” 

“You’re always rambling. Talking way too much,” he said. “What’s wrong now? Cat got your tongue?” 

He gulped. Mustered all the courage he could. “I like your big hands,” he blurted out. “When they control me. Big, strong, life-saving hands. I like who they belong to, too. I like that my childhood hero treats me like a worthless cumslut, and I like thinking about him fucking me with his fingers.” 

Eyes blown wide, Tony smirked. “Keep talking like that and maybe you’ll get what you want.” 

“I love belonging to you,” he breathed out. “You corrupted me, you dirty old man. I was an innocent kid, and now I think about your obscenely large yaoi hands instead of doing my geometry homework.” 

“Now, now, is that such a problem?” he tutted. 

Peter hummed. “It won’t be,” he said, tilting his head up. Tony’s hands left him as he made his way around the couch. “As long as you make it up to me, Sir.” 

“Words of a brat,” he said. “Look at you, getting a big head. Thinking I owe you…” He grabbed his collar and tugged him close. “You’re mine. I don’t owe you anything. I give you a house, food, and a place on my team. Not to mention, mind-blowing orgasms. I… I am Tony fucking Stark. I do whatever I want.” 

Breathless, Peter licked his lips. Then, he kissed him. His lips crashed on to Tony’s. He wrapped his hands and clasped them around his neck and jumped him. Tony crashed back into him, sending him against the couch. They pulled away from each other. “What’re you going to do about that?” Peter teased, breathless. 

“Friday, call Rogers in here. Tell him to bring Peter’s Punishment Box.” A shiver ran down his spine. Peter squirmed uncomfortably. “Uh-huh, you don’t get to do that now. You got yourself into this mess.” 

Steve walked in calmly moments later. “You regret talking so big,” Tony said, pinching his cheeks. He smirked, let go, and slapped him gently across the face. “So, so spoiled.” 

“Because of you, sir,” he retorted. 

Steve gasped slightly. “Where’s all this coming from? What happened to my sweet little angel?” 

Tony glared at Steve and grabbed the hem of Peter’s shirt and ripped it off of him. “Starting now, you’re grounded.” 

“What? You’re not my dad!” Peter exclaimed. He never ever needed a dad, and he didn’t want one now. 

“Then why’d you call me daddy?” Tony asked, stroking his hair. Peter bit his lip. “Aw, don’t be shy now. It’s too late for that.” Peter’s pants were the next to go. 

Peter sat on his shins in a pink bralette harness with matching crotchless panties. He reached his hands down to cover himself, but they wouldn’t let him. 

“You’re the one who spoils him too much. You wrap his arms.” Tony reached into the box and tossed the tape to Steve. 

“It’s not just me,” Steve said, grabbing the tape anyways. “The rest of the team does it too.” 

“You know what?” Tony asked, thinking. “You’re exactly right. Get the rest of ‘em up here.” 

Not waiting for the rest of them to arrive, Steve gently grabbed his wrists and started wrapping the pink tape around his hands. “What’re we doing?” he asked excitedly before he was hushed by Steve. 

Tony answered for him, “There’s no ‘we’ here. Just you, getting punished.” Next, Tony held up the blindfold. Leaning in close, Peter readied himself for a kiss. Smirking, he tied it around his head and denied him.

Then, there was hands on him. A pair on his breasts and a pair on his thighs. Teeth sunk into his neck, not hard enough to draw blood. Just strong enough to leave a mark. The teeth continued in their path, biting his neck over and over again. The teeth grazed against his thigh, and he clenched against the head in between his legs. 

The hands on his tits moved to grab his thighs. His legs were held apart as a tongue brushed against his clitorus. The hands didn’t leave him. As they roamed his body - pinching, squeezing, slapping, the tongue was joined with a set of fingers. Peter jolted and his legs spread in the air, dangling off the couch. 

The two fingers slid in just barely, rubbing the top of his inner wall. He heard a door open, and he perked up. A slap to his pussy grounded him. 

Peter, almost completely naked, was at the mercy of the Avengers who he seems to have pissed off. Tony, especially. He can feel the anger radiating off of him. 

The fingers slip in deeper, and Peter clenches around them. He closes his eyes under the blindfold and soaks up everything they’re giving him. 

They’re going to torture him like this. Continue bringing him over the edge time and time again until he learns his lesson. 

A third finger joins in. Soon after, they slip out. To replace them, his favorite dildo - the one with the rotating microbeads that extends while it vibrates with small spikes for texture, slips past a few centimeters. 

He turns it on, and Peter throws his tied hands over his mouth. “No, no, princess,” Tony cooed, grabbing his hands and dragging them away from his mouth. “We didn’t gag you for a reason. Care to guess why?” 

Peter would be a deadman to notice. “To… hear me beg?” he guessed. 

A harsh chuckle followed. Something tells him he was wrong. “I want to hear you sob,” Tony said, a soft hand stroking his hair again - not Tony’s. “To tell me how sorry you are for being a spoiled brat.” 

Peter wasn’t there yet. He isn’t nearly fucked out enough for him to ramble like a brainless slut, so he settles for a small apology. It wouldn’t settle, but Tony doesn’t comment on it. 

The dildo continues to thrust just  _ barely  _ touching him. It’s barely enough for him to get any pleasure from. There’s a low ache beginning to build, one that’s been there since this morning. A cloud is suffocating him. Like a zombie, he aches for something too, too far. He feels it in his stomach. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark,” he says, resisting the urge to bite down on the hands, which keep being pulled away from his mouth. 

“Don’t just apologize to me,” he ordered. “Apologize to your owners. You let them down.” 

_ They’re here. They’re all here, just… watching me, completely naked on our couch.  _

His apology fell short. He was going to get punished anyways. “No.” 

The room was so silent a feather would be heard if it dropped. “No?” 

“No,” Peter repeated, a little stronger. “You’re the ones who spoiled me. Now… Now fix it.” 

No one spoke. No one said anything. 

Peter gulped. “Okay?” he said, testing the waters. He still got no response. The only constant thing was the dildo touching him. “Mr. Stark?” Zip. Nada. Nothing. 

_ Oh, oh fuck.  _

Peter’s bound hands moved to the side to grasp the sides of the couch for support. He gripped on. 

It wasn’t even close to being enough. However, it was just enough to keep him pushing for more. The ache built, a longing for it to go deeper. 

A delicate finger paused over his clit, and he wanted to cry out and beg, but he restrained himself. The light touches were driving him crazy but not the type of crazy he wanted. 

“Fuck,” he cursed, taking in a deep breath. He couldn’t help but squirm on the couch. 

“No apology?” Tony asked, waiting for a response. Peter held his ground. “Alright, then. Get the gag.” 

A ball was pressed into his mouth and wrapped around his mouth. A hand against his back guided him over a lap, pushing his face into the couch cushion with his ass in the air and his feet on the ground. Somewhat slanted. Exposed. On view for the silent others to watch. 

He writhed uncomfortably, aching for something to fill him. He lay across the lap, empty, with a dry mouth. 

There was no warning for the dildo to reappear. Again, just a little, excruciating bit. It extended just barely farther than earlier. Not enough. Not enough. 

Peter let out a whine of frustration around the gag. 

“We had to do it, princess,” Steve was saying. “You’ve been so bratty.” 

“We should fill his mouth with something other than a gag,” Bucky offered from the other side of the room. 

Tony clicked his tongue. “Peter doesn’t deserve that.” 

_ When did sucking their cocks become a reward for me?  _

The dildo began to dig deeper, and Peter couldn’t restrain himself from thrashing a bit. “You getting close?” Tony asked. 

Just barely. He felt it building, but it wasn’t enough. Not at all. He let out a string of curses as the gag was undone. “What was that, slut?”

“Do I have permission to cum?” he asked, giving in already. He didn’t want to play this game anymore. 

“Aw. Good girl for asking for permission,” Tony praised. Peter soaked it up. The dildo upped in intensity, and Peter mewled. “You do not.” 

It was ripped out suddenly, and Peter cried at the loss. He panted short breaths to try and calm himself over the loss. Before he could calm, slaps sounded against his ass. Peter cried with each one. 

“Count them.” 

Peter wanted to stand his ground, but his courage was long gone. He couldn’t even remember why he wanted to disobey when he could feel so good. 

“One, two, three, fuck!” The fourth one hit especially hard when hard  _ metal  _ slapped against his ass. He didn’t hit hard enough to send him flying, but the surprise from the sudden pain rendered him silent.

“Did you mean ‘four’, smarty pants?” Tony teased. “I thought you were good at geometry. Did we fuck your kindergarten math out of your head?” 

The metal finger traced down the curve of his reddening ass. The panties were moved to the side so they could inspect the damage. “Did that hurt, angel?” Steve asked. 

“Daddy, please,” Peter cried, squeezing his eyes shut. “Please let me come. I’ll be good. Oh, oh, oh—“ He let out small cries as the dildo slipped through, slipped out, slipped through again. He was finally getting close. Tony continued fucking it in and out of him, dragging it in slowly to rip it out or thrusting it in roughly and slowly pulling it back before ramming into him. “Sir, may I please-—“ 

“No.” A harsh slap against his ass. The dildo disappeared. Another slap Peter forgot to count. It took him five more until he got the idea. 

The pattern continued. Every time Tony started up again, Peter cried more in earnest only to get denied again with a harsh slap. 

Half an hour later, Peter was sobbing into the couch cushion. Tony yanked on his hair as he fucked him, pulling his head from the couch so everyone could hear his pretty cries. 

“It’s okay, princess. We’ll fuck the spoiled right out of you.” 

Peter wasn’t sure there’d be anything left by the time they were done. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope y'all enjoyed! 
> 
> ((also no promises but if anyone ever has any requests/ideas, lemme know!!) as always, no constructive criticism!
> 
> bye bye y'all, ily, i hope u guys liked the hours i spent pouring into these 9 damn pages

**Author's Note:**

> It’s been a while for this series, I knowww, but everyone’s kinda ooc and bugs me. Fret not, I’m not discontinuing it completely. 
> 
> However, I am starting a new au! So if you liked this, keep an eye out! (Op is gonna start a seperate ao3 account for for all the spicy works) 
> 
> Hope y’all enjoyed! Thanks for ur support! (And as always, no constructive criticism, please!)


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